Great Black Skies
by Glow
Summary: FinnRory In a postYale, postLogan, adult world, Finn and Rory meet up again.
1. All Work and No Play

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: G

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES**: I started this before Christmas, ignored it for awhile, them picked it back up. Hope you enjoy.

**One: All Work and No Play**

Choices, choices, choices. It was no wonder the cosmetic industry raked in the big bucks, Rory Gilmore thought. She stood, considering a display, at CVS, wondering whether or not switching mascara brands was a good idea. She'd always been a Maybelline girl. But that girl in the L'Oreal commercial really did have fantastic eyelashes. It was a Wednesday morning, early December. She'd just faxed the article she'd been working on to her editor an hour before and had some time to kill before it was returned with notes for revision. She'd decided to grab some coffee and run some errands. It was an average day, in an average week in what had turned out to be very much an average year.

Naturally, just then, life decided to throw her a curveball. Said curveball saw her before she saw him and greeted her like he was Holly Golightly, "Rory Gilmore, darling. Is that you?"

"Finn!" Rory exclaimed, shocked. He was the last person she'd have expected to run into today. "Hi."

"Hi? All I get is a 'hi?' Completely unacceptable." He put down the basket he'd been carrying and picked her up in a bear hug, twirling her around. When he set her down Rory was blushing furiously and the scant few other shoppers were watching them with interest. Rory was acutely aware that her hair was a mess and that she'd left the apartment wearing her warmest, most practical, (and therefore rattiest) parka. Finn took no notice of their audience or of her embarrassment. But then he'd never been adverse to public spectacles. In fact, he'd rather relished in both creating and observing them. He kept a grip on her shoulders until he was sure she was steady on her feet and pulled back. And he'd always taken great pleasure in embarrassing her, too. "Now that I've greeted you properly, how are you? Married? Divorced? Bearing the illegitimate love child of anyone famous?"

Rory laughed, "No, no and I did that last year. It's not as glam as you'd think it would be."

"Really?" Finn's face was the picture of shock. For all his teasing he'd always been easy to mess with. Though she suspected he was mostly humoring her.

"No."

"Figured. If anything you'd have the love child of some tragic, penniless, artist type. You're probably a sucker for the fixer-uppers."

He'd just accurately described the major problem in her last three relationships. Not only was she attracted to fixer-uppers, she was attracted to write-offs and money-pits. "What brings you to New York, Finn? And CVS?"

"I'm here because the airline managed to lose my suitcase. They've no idea where it is, though they refuse to admit it. Useless bureaucrats. And since I have no desire to go for an indefinite period of time without flossing, here I am, buying things to keep me from smelling. I'm in New York for a command performance at the family yuletide celebrations, God help me. And you? Researching a masterpiece?" He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "Neighborhood pharmacy skimming prescription pills to sell illegally for obscene profit?"

"Just buying shampoo."

"The banana stuff?"

"Um. Yeah." How (why?) on earth was Finn able to remember what kind of shampoo she used?

"Good. Your hair always smelled nice. Are you finished?"

"I just have to pay."

"Good. How about taking a bloke out for lunch? I promise I'm baggage free."

Rory nodded her head in agreement, smiling despite the lameness of the joke. She'd forgotten how interesting life with Finn could be.

"When was the last time we saw each other, Rory?" Finn asked, once they were seated in the restaurant, sharing cheesy breadsticks.

"That would have been almost three years ago."

"Oh. Right." He didn't add the circumstance of their meeting and for that Rory was grateful. She didn't need to be reminded of Mitchum Huntzberger's funeral. She'd met Eloise McNeely that day, the beautiful, elegant fiancée of the man that she'd turned down.

"How was the wedding?"

Finn hesitated, "Rory…"

"No. It's okay. I actually want to know."

"Beautiful. Perfect. All the pomp and circumstance one would expect. Open bar." He watched her process his words. If she really wanted to know he wasn't one to sugar coat, "Logan was happier than I'd seen him in a very long time."

"I'm glad," Finn studied her, surprised by her sincerity. Either she really was okay or he had lost his ability to read her. "You look skeptical," Rory noted.

"I am skeptical."

"Don't be. Logan and I broke it off four years ago. In the end…" she trailed off, unable to verbalize what she knew to be true about her and Logan, "I guess we just weren't right for each other."

"I don't get it," Finn mused, more to himself than to her.

"Get what?"

"You loved him like nothing I'd ever seen," he looked her straight in the eye, characteristically blunt.

"I loved him, yeah. Still do in some ways. But he wasn't my first love. And, with a little luck, he won't be my last."

They'd lingered over lunch as long as possible, until their server was visibly annoyed with them. Finn wouldn't let her see the bill, insisting that it was his duty as a gentleman to take care of it, but the aforementioned server was sunshine and roses later. Finn was thanked effusively as Rory put on her coat and scarf. Rory figured Finn had tipped well enough to make her three cups of coffee worth the server's while. "Where to, Miss Gilmore?" Finn asked jauntily.

She studied him for a second as they stepped into the mid-afternoon brightness, "Have I ever seen you without sunglasses in the daylight?"

"Probably not," he shook his head ruefully, "But I've grown up. Worked a respectable, grown up daytime job for, what, five years now? My eyes have adjusted accordingly."

"Well, I believe post office was next on my agenda, Peter Pan. I need stamps. Are you tagging along?"

"Of course. I can either spend my day pestering you, in a boring hotel room, or with my family," he mimed a shudder at the thought.

"I'm flattered," Rory deadpanned.

"You know me. A beautiful woman wins out every time."

Finn was a toucher. He didn't believe in personal space, especially with people he considered friends (a fact that had brought many who didn't know them to conclude that he and Colin were quite a bit more than friends in their college years). He walked close. He held doors open. He placed a hand on her back to usher her into a room, he brushed her hair away from her face. Back when they'd first met she'd had trouble with it, not used to being touched by a man that was not hers. Gradually, though she'd relaxed, grown so accustomed that she'd barely even noticed it. When other people had questioned it she'd managed a shrug and nonchalantly offered, "He's Australian," as an explanation. It was an excuse that worked more often than not.

Today though, Finn touching her every now and then wasn't easily shrugged off. Things that she wouldn't have noticed a few years ago now gave her pause. She'd found herself leaning into him and consciously cataloging every touch, every gesture. She told herself it was become he was no longer as familiar as he had been. That she hadn't had a boyfriend in awhile and she was reading too much into nothing. That it was really, really cold out and gravitating towards the nearest warm body was a survival instinct.

Finn and talked as easily as ever, though. They spent a good chunk of that first day catching one another up on the people that they had known and enjoyed through each other. Finn confided that Colin and his wife Marissa were trying to have a baby. Rory found the image of Colin with baby spit on one of his $400 sweaters amusing.

Rory told Finn that Paris was living in Boston doing some medical research she found completely fascinating and Rory had a difficult time understanding, let alone trying to explain. Paris was seeing a man she had a good feeling about, a bookish Englishman who worked at a publishing house. He was older, but with neither foot anywhere near a grave. Finn lamented the fact that he'd never made a move on Paris, since she seemed to have a thing for accents.

Stephanie's father had retired this summer and Stephanie was now running the pharmaceutical company, the power agreeing with her immensely. Finn admitted that she was mildly terrifying. Rory pitied her underlings.

Rory glowed with pride when she talked about Lane. Lane, having followed her dreams, despite opposition, was living in L.A., having reconciled with Dave Rygalski, pursuing her big break and working as a session musician to make ends meet.

The Huntzberger empire was thriving under Logan, and he was as in love with newspapers as his father had always wanted him to be. Finn watched Rory carefully as he talked, looking for a crack in her composure. There wasn't one and Finn was almost convinced she was honest when she said she was over Logan.

"I miss them," Rory said suddenly, and she did. These people she had known and loved before she had entirely known and loved herself. "I miss you, Finn."

Finn shook his head and smiled down at her, "Silly girl. You don't have to miss me. I'm there if you want me to be. I'm sure Colin would love to hear from you. Steph too. I know for a fact that Logan misses you. Friends only lose touch if you let them."

"I guess I know that. But you, and Colin and Stephanie were Logan's. Does that make sense?"

Finn laughed, "Bought and paid for, in the beginning. Pricey, too. But you were a major part of our lives for years, Rory. Not just as Logan's girlfriend, either."

"I didn't want anyone to have to pick sides."

"So you picked for us? Fascist."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, though. I missed you, too. Bizarre political leanings and all." His arm reached out and pulled her into him. She stayed for a moment, her arm coming up behind him to return the walking hug. She lingered, glad to have run into him.


	2. Third Degree

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: G

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES**: Oh, wow. I'm actually kind of surprised so many people read this. Behold the power of Finn.

**Two: Third Degree**

Finn had popped back into her life at an opportune time. A few weeks before and Rory would have had to brush him off, being in the middle of a piece and barely having time to grocery shop, let alone entertain Finn. Somehow, though, she highly doubted Finn would have allowed a 'nice to see you, let's keep in touch.' He hated being ignored.

Finn was a welcome distraction, as Rory was now in the midst of the part of investigative journalism that she found most tedious. Revising to meet her editor's standards. Revising if the sources had a problem with how their words transferred to the page. Endless faxes and notes and lots of downtime in between. Finn was always around to make her laugh when shortly before she's been contemplating ripping out her hair strand by strand.

He'd adopted her apartment as his own and spent more time in it than in his outrageously expensive hotel room. She should have been fed up with him. But just when she was about to snap, demand he quit flipping and just stick with one channel, or sit still, already, and quit picking up every loose knickknack, he'd casually say, 'Oh, by the way, I just made a fresh pot of coffee, would you like some?' or if she was sitting next to him his hand would find hers and would massage away the cramps frenzied typing had caused. Either way all would be forgiven. That was Finn's way. He drove her to the brink of crazy but in the end she thanked him for the ride.

He had insisted on taking her out nearly every night. They went to dinner at upscale, ridiculously trendy eateries where they spotted and mercilessly mocked many who had graced recent _US Weekly_ covers. He took her to what turned out to be the second best diner in the world. They saw plays (both those that were impossible for mere mortals to get tickets to and those arty ones in tiny, dingy, theatres where half the seats were empty and the ones that weren't were filled by scowling university students and middle aged men in berets). They went to clubs and movies and gallery showings and Finn even took her ice skating one night, though he was terrible at it, and took her mocking gracefully, from his perpetual seat on the ice.

It wasn't until the beginning of the third week that they made the society pages. A photographer had caught them outside of the restaurant they'd dined at two nights ago as they stood near the curb, waiting for a cab to pass. They'd been facing each other, close, hands entwined. She'd been laughing, head thrown back and he was looking down at her, smile in place, but faint. If she didn't know any better she'd say they looked like they were in love. At the time, neither had noticed a picture being taken.

The blurb beneath the picture had actually been rather long. Her background was detailed (eldest grandchild to Richard and Emily Gilmore, alumnus of Yale, came into a sizable trust last year, promising journalism career, etc) and his approximate net worth and former conquests were written on at length. The columnist apparently heard wedding bells chiming in the spring.

She'd read it aloud to Finn over the breakfast of bagels and fruit he'd brought with him. When she'd finished she'd carefully folded it and looked at him. He calmly popped a slice of pineapple in his mouth, meeting her gaze levelly. "Well?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"What are we going to do?" His answering shrug conveyed how unconcerned he was. "Finn, come on," Rory prodded.

"Rory it's only gossip. Relax. It's actually quite flattering, for once. Who knew people thought I was too good to date brainless supermodels? They love me, they really love me. I think I'm going to laminate it and post it on my refrigerator."

"But a lot of people read this, Finn. They're going to think we're…" she gestured weakly between the two of them.

"Engaged? Together? Making mad, passionate love at every available opportunity?"

"All of the above."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

"What? Finn, are you saying… Do you…" before she could finish her question, and find out what he meant, the phone rang. She was prepared to ignore it but the Inspector Gadget theme chimed from Finn's jacket pocket a second later. He took out his cell phone, glanced at the display, and answered it, retreating into the other room with an apologetic look. With a sigh and a mental note to pick up the thread of the conversation later, she picked up the receiver in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"You've been keeping things from your mother again. I hate it when I'm scooped."

Rory sighed and hopped up to sit on the counter, "Hi mom. I take it you've been enjoying a morning paper with your morning coffee?"

"Nope. I left early this morning. Inn issue. Tiny flood. I barely had time for makeup and the Bride of Frankenstein would quake at the sight of my hair. Your grandmother was kind enough to call me with this little ray of sunshine. I dropped everything to look it up on the web. I had to subscribe, put perhaps Mr. Moneybags future son-in-law will take care of that for me?"

"So you're saying that Grandma knows?" As always, Rory had to sift through an abundance of words to grasp her mother's point.

"Oh, yes. She's happier than she's been in a long time. Since it looked like she'd be having great-grandbabies of the Huntzberger variety, in fact."

"Crap."

"I detected glee. A gleeful Emily Gilmore is a terrifying Emily Gilmore."

"Should I be expecting a phone call from her soon?"

"Yeah. She said she was going to wait awhile and respect your 'quality time' so you have a brief reprieve."

"She didn't say that," Rory groaned. The idea that her grandmother thought she was having sex at that very moment was somewhat disturbing.

"She did. Naturally I, as your mother, had no such qualms. Bamp chicka bow wow."

"It's too early in the morning for simulated porn music, Mom."

"Sorry. Couldn't resist. So?"

"So what?"

"Will I be having tall, accented grandbabies anytime soon? Will my daughter be moving to London anytime soon? Will I have to wear a heinous mother of the bride power suit anytime soon? I'll forgive you for holding out on me if you save me from the power suit."

"No to all of the above. And I wasn't holding out on you."

"Yeah, you were. You never mentioned Finn was in town."

"So? I ran into Madeline a couple of weeks ago at Macy's and I didn't mention that, either. Finn's an old friend. It's not a big deal."

"Sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, why would you think I'm not sure?"

"The woman in the picture I'm looking at right now doesn't look sure."

Rory banged her head against the kitchen cabinets behind her.

* * *

"Colin? To what do I owe the morning phone call? We talked two days ago, on schedule. You're never one to break a routine, not that it's not a joy to hear your voice, mind you."

His attempt to put Colin on the defensive was not the least bit successful. "I am when I catch one of my best friends in a big, fat lie. I specifically remember asking if you were seeing anyone. I specifically remember you saying, 'No, mate. Haven't come across anyone interesting,'" his affected accent was atrociously reminiscent of Dame Edna, "Now I have proof to the contrary."

"Colin…"

Colin interrupted him, "I know Rory Gilmore, remember? She's plenty interesting."

Finn sighed, and flopped, somewhat uncomfortably on to Rory's couch. He'd really have to talk her into buying something for a tall person, "Colin, it's just a picture. It's not what it looks like."

"A picture's worth a thousand words."

"Thank you for the pearl of wisdom," Finn said sarcastically, "Someone obviously got a 'platitude a day' calendar for their birthday."

"So then you're not in love with Rory Gilmore?" Colin ignored the dig.

"No. I'm definitely in love with her."

"What?" Colin's screech was quite a bit higher than was strictly manly. "You just said it wasn't what it looks like!"

"It's not. It looks like we're together. We are not together; therefore it is not what it looks like."

Colin was silent for a second, "That's possibly the most circular logic, ever."

"I try."

"You just said that you love her."

"I did."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not at this time."

Colin groaned. Whenever you wanted Finn to shut up he'd talk for hours. But when you wanted him to talk he was tighter lipped than a Black Ops CIA agent. "Finn, what are you doing?"

"When you figure it out, I'll let you know. It's a bit of a complex situation, I'll admit."

"Have you talked to Logan about this complex situation?"

Finn banged his head against the arm of the couch behind him.


	3. This Mess We're In

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: G

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES: **Chapter title courtesy of A PJ Harvey song. Thank you to all the lovely reviewers.

**Three: This Mess We're In**

Thus began the flurry of phone calls that came from all over. Lane called from L.A and highly approved. Stephanie called from Atlanta, talked to Finn then asked to speak to Rory. They made plans to meet up in January, when Stephanie was in New York for a shareholders meeting. Paris called from Boston, Emily and Richard broke out the speakerphone (opening with, 'Rory, did we wake you? And making Rory cringe), several of Finn's relatives called from uptown, Lorelai called again, twice. And that was only the phone calls that were made to Rory and Finn. Elsewhere Colin and Stephanie both phoned Logan. Finn's mother phoned Emily to arrange a meeting. Lane phoned Lorelai. The telephone companies were making a bundle on long distance from everyone involved. Shame none of them owned stock.

At about 2 PM Finn turned off his phone and stuffed it in the freezer, behind a package of garden vegetables Luke had brought over once. Rory followed his lead and turned off or unplugged anything that rang or beeped. She imagined she's just experienced what a starlet does at a press junket, answered the same question a dozen times with only a slight rearranging of words. She'd played the 'we're just friends' card to minimal effect.

"Well, that was fun," Finn said sarcastically from where he was once again sprawled across Rory's couch. "Now I remember why I like e-mail. E-mail doesn't talk back in a snippy tone like Auntie Adele. Oh, by the way," he was aiming for casual but missed, "you are now required to attend tomorrow night's festivities."

"Why?"

"My mum's a difficult lady to say no to."

Rory snickered and shoved his legs aside so she could sit, "Never pictured you as a mama's boy, Finn."

"Hey, you're hardly one to talk, Gilmore. If ever there was a classic case of cast iron apron strings it's you and yours."

Rory didn't really have a leg to stand on when it came to arguing that point. "What should I wear?"

"It's black tie. Basically a ball, though we don't call it that. My mother thinks 'balls' are only for people who can't actually afford to attend one." Finn's arm came to rest behind her back.

"If only I had a fairy godmother."

"Do you need a dress, fair lady? Just give me a minute to let my phone unthaw and I'll have you something alarmingly expensive and gorgeous and made in a sweatshop delivered within the hour."

"No. It's okay. I bought a dress for Grandma's New Years Eve Party that I can wear. If you'd like to turn some mice into servants though, feel free. This place could use some dusting."

"I've a good many talents. Sadly, transfiguration is not among them."

"Yet another reason why Harry Potter would be the perfect boyfriend."

"I'm more of a Malfoy man, myself."

Rory curled her legs up under her, leaning into him, "That's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say."

"My nieces are Potter freaks. Wouldn't let me read 'em anything else last time I saw them."

"Oh. You read?."

"Occasionally. Men's magazines. TV Guide, you know."

Rory was silent for a moment. Finn's hand twisted strands of her hair gently, "Finn?"

"Mmm?"

"What are we going to tell people?"

"We tell them that we're friends. Unless…" he cleared his throat. Rory almost thought he sounded nervous, but then, Finn didn't get nervous. "Unless you'd like to tell them something different?"

"Friends is good."

"Agreed."

The next day, Finn and Rory went to lunch and Rory confessed to being slightly terrified.

"Whatever for? You've been to these sorts of things before. You'll eat a canapé. Tell you've never met before that you're grandparents, Richard and Emily Gilmore, are doing just fine. You'll have a glass of champagne. Talk about your job. You'll dance. Lather, rinse, repeat."

"Ugh. I suck at small talk."

"No you don't. I've seen you work these parties before, Rory. You're naturally charming."

Rory rolled her eyes, "I suppose, I should take that as a compliment, coming from you."

"I'm a people person."

"That's putting it mildly," Rory couldn't even count the number of times she's seem him bewitch people (men and women alike), effortlessly, into doing his bidding. "What's your family like?"

"My parents are… difficult. They'll be perfectly gracious to you, of course, as you're single, from a good family and of a marriageable age, and not deformed in any way. Physically, anyway. You won't talk to them long enough for them to grasp your many mental deformities. You know the type."

Rory punched him playfully for the insult and wrinkled her nose, "Oh. That type."

Finn shrugged, "They're not bad people, really. A little snobby and a lot stiff. You'll meet Ollie. Olivia, actually. She hates it when I call her Ollie."

"Which is why you do."

"You know me far too well, Rory Gilmore. She's my older sister and I've never forgiven her for stabbing me with a fork when I was five."

"I'm guessing you deserved it."

"I may have tossed a couple of her dolls on to the grill when no one was looking, but still. It left a scar. And she was too old for dolls, anyway."

"Poor baby."

"Anyway, violent tendencies aside, she's mostly pretty great. Has kept the parent's off my back heaps of times. Wired me money when they cut me off, picked me up from miscellaneous seedy establishments, etc."

"You're very own rescue squad. Neat. Does she live in London, too?"

"No, actually. She lives in Versailles with her ridiculously brilliant software engineer husband and two mini-hers."

"Ah, the Potter freaks."

"Isabelle and Margot. They'll be there. I plan to sneak them as much sugar as I possibly can so they'll be bouncing off the walls by bedtime."

"Looking for another fork wound?"

"She likes to think she's too mature for that now, so I think I'm safe. My younger brother will be there, too. He's…" Finn grimaced, "basically me during my Yale years."

"Read: lecherous."

"Hey! I resent that."

"Please. If it was wearing lipgloss you hit on it. Heavily. And persistently."

"Fair point," Finn took an insult well, especially when it was a factual one. "But I'd like to think I did it better than he does."

"And you'd be wrong."

"I was in college. Those years are supposed to be about doing stupid things. Jasper's two years out but has yet to do anything but burn through a considerable amount of my father's money."

"Kids these days," Rory shook her head in a show of disappointment.

"You're mocking me."

"Possibly. Grandpa."

Knowing some of the particulars of Finn's family had distracted her, but hadn't been able to calm her nerves. The butterflies were flapping uncontrollably in her stomach as she rode the elevator up to Finn's room. They'd agreed to meet at his hotel room at 7:00, as it was closer to the party site. She was a little early. She knocked on the door then nervously smoothed her hair back. He opened the door after a beat. The sight of Finn in a tuxedo was not unfamiliar (LDB events had always favored formal wear) nor was it unpleasant. He wore it easily and well without a trace of the unease that many men felt when stuffed into a penguin suit. And when he smiled at her, slowly, appreciatively, Rory's breath caught, and she forgot for a second that he was just an old friend.

"I see our years apart have not dampened your obsessive punctuality." He held the door open wider and invited her in. "I've got something for you."

"Really?" Rory asked, intrigued. "Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

"No," he fetched a small blue box from a table and handed it to her. Rory took off her mittens and opened it. Within sat a pair of earrings, tiny diamonds adorning platinum strings.

"Finn, they're lovely."

"I saw them when I was picking out a broach for my mother. Thought of you."

"Thank you," she removed the simple pearl studs she's been wearing and put on Finn's gift. "What do you think?"

"Beautiful."

Rory ducked her head, uncomfortable, because she got the distinct impression he didn't mean just the earrings, "Well, the coat probably doesn't do them justice, but thanks. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," he checked his watch, "The car should have arrived already," he pulled his coat from the closet and took her hand in his, "Let's get this over with."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"You know we're in for a boring couple of hours. No way around it. We will smile, and nod, and persevere, like good little pilgrims."

"Good plan. Minus the part about pilgrims."

"How 'bout afterwards we find a McDonald's and eat happy meals? You can have my toy."

Rory placed her hand over her heart, "That's the best offer I've had all week, mister."


	4. Meet the Sister

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: G

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES**: Whew. RL has been cra-azy. Thanks to those have reviewed so far.

**Four: Meet the Sister**

"Wow," Rory paused in the entrance way of the ballroom to let her eyes adjust to the tastefully dim lighting, "this here is a mighty fine shindig."

Finn wasn't as easily impressed, "Eh. It's alright. I tried to talk my mum into some flame eaters but she said no."

"I can't imagine why. Just one of those draperies probably costs as much as a car."

They were approached by a man in a uniform who nodded stiffly then asked, "Might I take your coats?"

Finn shrugged out of his and handed it to the man before turning to help Rory out of hers. She turned and it was his turn to be awed. "Wow."

"What?" Rory fiddled with her bracelet.

"That there is some dress."

"Oh," the dress in question was twenties in style, made of deep blue silk. The V-neck dipped lower in front than Rory was generally comfortable with and lower still in the back. The skirt flared slightly to end just below her knees. She hadn't been drawn to it in the store, initially. An older saleswoman had brought it to her dressing room and she'd tried it on to be nice. The saleswoman's instincts were far better than Rory's, if the look Finn was giving her was any indication, and she'd bought the dress on impulse. "Thank you," she replied, avoiding his gaze.

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine," Rory willed herself not to blush as he handed her coat off to the man who was still waiting alongside them who then, with a nod, retreated. Finn looked around the room and spotted a familiar couple heading their way, "Oh no. I was hoping to have a glass of champagne in my belly and another in hand before this."

"Before what?"

"The wolves have spotted us and are drawing near. Eleven o'clock. The end is nigh," Finn stage whispered darkly. Then, before Rory could reply he pasted on a bright smile and exclaimed, "Ollie!" without a trace of anything to indicate that he wasn't overjoyed to see his sister. Finn leaned forward to kiss the woman's cheek and Rory watched with some amusement the long suffering eye roll the older woman displayed. "Rory Gilmore, I'd like you to meet my sister, Ollie, and her husband, Gerard Tanguy. Oh, champagne!" Finn grabbed two flutes from a passing waiter and handed one to Rory.

"It's Olivia, actually. But I'm sure he told you that."

"It's nice to meet you. Both of you," Rory offered her hand first to Gerard, who bowed slightly over it, then to Olivia.

Olivia took it and studied her shrewdly, "Likewise. So tell me, Rory. Exactly what are your intentions towards my little brother?"

Finn choked on a sip of champagne, "Olivia," he said warningly.

"Finn," she replied, not the least bit intimidated. "Why don't you and Gerard go find our seats? Rory and I will catch up in a minute."

"No."

Gerard sighed and stepped forward, "Finn, let her get this over with. Olivia, be nice, sil vous plait?"

Rory watched the back and forth between Finn and Olivia like a Wimbledon spectator. Her siblings were all much younger and so she'd never experienced this kind of interplay.

"I'm always nice," said Olivia with a smile that said otherwise.

"Fine. Five minutes. Don't make me tell mother who actually broke the Tiffany lamp in her library, okay? Rory, I'm so, so sorry. You can get a free shot in later. I'll take it like a man. Well, a manly wuss."

Rory laughed, "It's fine, Finn. Really."

Finn allowed his brother in law to lead him away with the promise of getting something stronger from the bar. Olivia clasped Rory's elbow gently and led her over to the side of the room where the crowd was less dense. "Now, back to my question. Would you like me to repeat it?"

Rory raised an eyebrow at the ever so slightly hostile tone, "No. You asked what my intentions were, correct? I can't say that I have any."

"I doubt that. Nice earrings, by the way. I bet they're new," Rory did not reply, "Yeah, that's what I thought. Finn's always been a sucker for a pretty face."

Rory bristled visibly and straightened her shoulders, "I don't want his money, if that's what you're implying. I've more than enough of my own."

"You were with the Huntzberger kid, for awhile, too, weren't you?"

"Yeah. In college. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Maybe nothing. But I think I know your type, Rory Gilmore."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know my brother cares about you. I know he tends to care for the wrong ones."

"Way to insult my intelligence, there, sister darling," Finn and Gerard had come back and Finn did not look pleased. He'd kept an eye on the scene and quickly doubled back when it seemed not to be going well. His instinct had been correct.

"Finn, I was just trying…" Olivia began, her voice placating.

"I know. And thanks, but no thanks. Rory would you like to dance with me?"

"Yes," she drank the last of her champagne and set the flute down, taking the hand Finn offered her and allowing herself to be pulled onto the dance floor. They arranged themselves and Finn began to lead her expertly in a waltz.

He looked down at her and shook his head ruefully, "Sisters. More trouble than they're worth."

* * *

Three hours later and the evening had gone much as Finn said it would, save for the encounter with Finn's sister and another with his younger brother. Rory had been greatly amused by Jasper, who was, as Finn had said, much like Finn's Yale era self. Outrageously flirtatious and glib, Rory had felt a little bit like a time traveler talking to him. Finn had glowered when she'd said that, sure in the belief that he'd never been quite that bad. She'd had three glasses of champagne (refusing a fourth), more canapés than was probably fashionable, and had made small talk with a number of people who knew her grandparents but whom she'd never met or heard of before.

She'd met more of Finn's family. His mother, a stately and imposing woman had been gracious, and Finn's father, a handsome distinguished seeming man, gruff and dryly witty. His nieces were cuter than cute and he clearly adored them. Funnily enough, no one had asked for clarification on the status of their relationship. Rory's rehearsed speech about how they'd rekindled a friendship after years apart was never used.

She caught Finn's eye and gave the agreed upon signal, sliding her bracelet off one wrist and on to the other. He nodded imperceptibly and began making the necessary excuses so they could leave. Half an hour later they'd collected their coats and were waiting for the car to pull around front. Olivia came striding out of the ballroom doors. Finn had purposely excluded her when making his goodbyes. He sighed upon seeing her. She was wearing her 'determined face.' She saved it for special occasions and he knew that Ollie would have no problem standing in front of the limo to prevent them from leaving. "Rory? Would you mind terribly waiting for me in the car a minute?"

"No problem. Good-night, Olivia," she nodded towards the other woman coolly and, with the help of a doorman, picked her way down the icy stairs and into the waiting car. Finn watched until she was safely ensconced in the car before turning to his sister, "This had better be good, Ollie."

"Finn. I'm sorry you're upset. I'm just looking out for you."

Finn snorted derisevly at her non apology, "Thanks for the sentiment, big sister, but in case you haven't realized it, I'm a grown man. Rory's been my friend for a long time and you practically called her a gold digging status whore!" His voice was increasing in volume and the desk staff looked over before hurriedly looking away. "Honestly, did you read that article? She's got family money. She's got a career. And had you bothered to ask me I'd have told you that she's not like that. Not at all."

"You're not always the best judge of that."

"Fine. Then ask anyone else who knows her. Phone Colin, or Stephanie. Logan, even. Hell, I'll dial."

Olivia watched him, comprehension dawning, "You're serious about her, aren't you?"

Finn scrubbed a hand through his hair, "I might be. If she'll let me."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Good night," he went out into the cold without a backward glance.


	5. She Don't Care What You Say

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: PG and edging upwards

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES**: Yes, I am an evil non-updater. Sorry. But thank you to all those that have reviewed this and all my other stories. Getting that little 'review notification' always prods me towards my computer. Interesting fact: Microsoft Word recognizes 'Tinkerbelle' as a legitimate word but not 'Dumbo.' Weird, no? Chapter title stolen from The Magic Numbers.

**Five: She Don't Care What You Say**

True to his word, Finn directed the driver to find them the nearest drive-thru window when he got in the limo. If the driver found this request odd he was well aid enough not comment. "That was… interesting," Rory commented.

"And those were just the ones the asylum let out on day passes," Finn joked. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Olivia. Sometimes she confuses 'older sister' with 'high inquisitor.'"

"You don't have to apologize. She's protective of you. That's nice."

"Still. I will be ratting her out about the lamp thing."

"It's okay, really. You might want to keep that as leverage for another time."

"Oh, don't worry. There's plenty more where that came from."

Rory slipped off her heels and tucked her legs underneath her so she was facing him and rested her head on the seat, "It wasn't all bad."

"Oh?"

"I rather enjoyed your doppelganger," she teased, referring to Jasper.

Finn groaned, "I was never that cheesy."

"Rose colored glasses, dear." Rory smiled at him fondly and he found himself smiling back.

"Sir? We've arrived," the driver announced.

Finn rolled down his window just in time to catch the garbled voice bleat out, "Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?"

* * *

They'd opened the sunroof, blasted the heat, and taken the scenic route back to Rory's apartment. They sat in an easy silence, eating McFlurries and watching the sky. They'd also been sampling the well stocked bar that the limo held. "Finn?" Rory asked softly.

"Mmm?"

"I'm driving to Stars Hollow the tomorrow afternoon."

"Yeah. I know."

"Do you want to…? I mean I know you have a lot going on, but if you wanted to…" Rory took a deep breath and cursed the sudden onslaught of nerves, "Do you want to come down? To Stars Hollow. Just for a day or two. I mean, you don't have to or anything but…"

"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. But I can't, unfortunately."

"Oh."

"The parental figures insisted on a good old fashioned family Christmas this year. I heard a murmur about caroling. There will be hell to pay if I ditch it, much as I'd like to."

"I understand."

"How about I come down for New Years? That is if you think you'll be able to wrangle me an invite to Emily's soiree?"

"Ooh," Rory grimaced exaggeratedly, "I don't know, Finn. It's a hot ticket."

"You've got connections."

"I'll try to pull some strings. Just look for the girl in the dress that looks exactly like this one."

* * *

Due, in part to the champagne she'd had at the party and the rum she'd had with her coke in the limo, Rory was feeling drowsy by the time they'd meandered their way back to her building. The driver opened the door and both she and Finn slid out. She waited while he instructed the driver to wait; he'd walk her to her door and be down shortly. She swayed gently on her feet and burrowed deeper into her coat to ward off the night's chill. He wrapped an arm around her and she snuggled closer. They made their way past her doorman, who watched her with mild interest and up to her apartment in silence. She dug her keys out of her tiny evening bag and turned to him and, in a hushed tone said, "Thanks, Finn."

"Really, there's no need. You've had a better time at the dentist's, I'm sure. I know I have."

"Actually, all things considered, tonight will definitively go down in history as more good than bad."

"Has anyone ever told you you're an odd duck, love?"

"Many, many times."

"To clarify, I actually like that about you."

She smiled up at him, dimly aware that he'd moved closer, "I'm glad."

He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, once, twice. Rory's eyes fluttered closed and her hands reached out to him just as he pulled away. "'Night Rory."

"Goodnight," she echoed faintly, fingers coming up to touch her lips, watching as he strolled around the corner to the bank of elevators. She let herself into her apartment, no longer tired. Her heart was racing and he hadn't even properly kissed her.

* * *

Rory was in that place between sleep and consciousness, where everything was warm and comfortable and edged in light, when the buzzer sounded, jarring her awake. She was less than pleased. She stumbled over to the intercom, "Yeah?"

"Miss Gilmore, you have a visitor."

She pressed the talk button again, puzzled, "Who?"

A female voice answered, "Rory? It's Olivia. Finn's sister from…"

Rory cut off her explanation and instructed Maurice to let her in. She wrestled her hair into an approximation of a ponytail and splashed her face with water a couple of times, rubbing away the mascara smudges, before going into the kitchen to make some coffee. Mr. Coffee was dripping merrily when Olivia knocked at the door. Rory opened it and said, "Good morning," in a way that was neither welcoming nor angry, but mostly curious.

"Hello. Sorry to bother you early, like this," Olivia smoothed a non-existent wrinkle on her navy pencil skirt.

"It's no trouble," Rory held the door open, "would you like to come in? I'm making coffee."

"Thank you. That would be nice," she stepped inside and removed her gloves.

Rory was puzzled but forced herself to refrain from commenting on the stark contrast between Olivia's attitude today and the one she'd displayed last night.

"Kitchen's through here," Rory gestured and Olivia dutifully followed her, laying her coat and gloves upon one chair and seating herself in another.

"Your apartment's very nice."

"Thank you. I'm afraid I can't take much credit for the décor. My grandmother did most of it as a birthday present the year I moved in and then my mother blew through a few weeks later with a some prints and knickknacks and a rug to 'funkify the joint.' Her words, not mine." Rory poured two cups of coffee as she spoke. "Cream and sugar?"

"Black is fine."

"Okay." Rory set a mug down in front of Olivia and seated herself across from her, content to allow the other woman to make the point of her visit clear in due time.

Olivia allowed herself a few sips before doing just that, "I assume you're wondering how I got your address?"

"Not really. At Yale, Finn and the others were quite adept at getting their hands on private information. I learned it's better not to ponder the how's and why's."

"Oh. Well, I didn't do anything illegal."

"The thought didn't cross my mind."

"I came to… I owe you an apology."

"I can't say I disagree," Rory's tone lacked bite, which made her comment all the more pointed.

"Finn's always been, well, a bit reckless."

Rory hid a grin behind her cup, "I know. You should probably substitute 'a bit' for 'really, really.'"

"Probably," they shared a smile, "anyway, I've cleaned up more than a few of his messes and I try to take preventative measures whenever possible."

"So last night was you trying to prevent a mess?"

"Exactly. Finn's reckless with money and things and he's reckless with his body. But he's especially reckless with his heart. And, truthfully, he's reckless with the hearts of others as well.

"I see." Rory thought about trotting out the 'we're just old friends, really' line but something told her Olivia wouldn't be buying it. The fact that she'd tossed and turned last night, obsessing over a ghost of a kiss, told Rory that she didn't buy it herself.

"I know I shouldn't meddle, he's twenty-eight years old, for heaven's sake. But in my head he's still the kid who jumped off the roof of the greenhouse, thinking that he could fly."

"That sounds like Finn," one long knock followed by three short ones sounded at her door, Finn's knock. "Speak of the devil," Rory said. Maurice had begun to let Finn in on sight days ago.

"And he instantly appears," Olivia finished. She got up to follow Rory to the door, collecting her things along the way, knowing that her presence was no longer necessary.

Rory threw open the door to find Finn, brandishing a bouquet of lilies. "For you, milady," his eyes traveled past Rory to land on the other, unexpected, person currently standing in Rory's apartment. "Ollie, what are you doing here?"

Rory and Olivia shared a look that he didn't particularly feel comfortable with,"I was filling Rory in on some of your more embarrassing moments."

"It seems I wasn't mistaken in calling you Peter Pan. Where was Tinkerbelle with the pixie dust?"

Finn groaned, "I was seven years old. And inspired by Dumbo, actually."

"He did have unusually large ears as a child," Olivia confided.

"You were just leaving, then, weren't you Ollie?"

"Yes. And relax. You managed, somehow, to grow into them." She pinched his cheek as she passed, "See you, Rory. Thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime," Olivia left with a wave and Finn shut the door behind her, eyeing Rory suspiciously. "What?"

"Double, double toil and trouble."

"Nothing bad happened. Your sister came by to apologize for what happened yesterday."

"And?"

"I accepted."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"Hmm."

"Oh, just give me those flowers, already."


	6. I’ll Write You a Postcard

**PAIRING: **Finn/Rory.

**RATING**: PG and edging upwards. Fair warning: next chapter it'll edge upwards a lot.

**SPOILERS**: Everything that has aired so far is fair game.

**DISCLAIMER**: Not mine. All characters are property of ASP and the WB.

**NOTES**: Thanks to those who've reviewed thus far. You have my brand spanking new IPod Nano and it's fondness for Stars for this chapter. Title from the song 'Your Ex-Lover is Dead.'

**Six: I'll Write You a Postcard, I'll Send You the News**

Later, sitting in Rory's living room, Finn continued to badger Rory about the content of her conversation with his sister. He ignored the cup of coffee he had accepted and Rory calmly sipped her second as she shot his inquiries. Finally, she decided to change the subject, "Do you remember when we met?"

"Yes."

She arched an eyebrow, "Really? Because it wasn't until a couple of months into our acquaintance that you managed to remember my name.

"Not true. Remember, 'Damn it Gilmore! Give 'em back their balls!'" Finn smothered a laugh with a sip of coffee.

Rory shook her head, "Had I been sitting any closer to you at the time someone would have been removing that whistle from your esophagus."

"You loved it."

"At the time? I really, really did not."

"I looked hot in that uniform."

Rory rolled her eyes, "The hat was a wee bit much."

"Are you kidding me? The hat made the ensemble. Without the hat it would've just been silly."

"You're fashion sense was questionable back then."

"When did you become the fashion police, scarf-y?" Rory's reply was in the form of a withering glare, so he resumed their previous conversation, "In my defense, I met a lot of girls at Yale."

"That's the kind of defense that'll get you hanged, mister."

"Mostly, I was just messing with you. Well, there was the drinking, too."

"Excuses, excuses. I thought you were an idiot."

"Rory, love, I was an idiot. A sexy, fun idiot, but I was an idiot nonetheless. I mean, I almost single handedly sunk a yacht. A really nice one."

"Hold on a minute, I'm not so sure you should be using the past tense."

"You're right. I'm still sexy and fun."

"And full of yourself."

"That wasn't very nice, Rory," he intercepted her coffee cup as she was bringing it up to her lips, placing it on the side table.

"You can't just take my coffee!"

"I just did," he informed her.

"Give it back."

"No." Rory lunged for the coffee without much success as Finn's body was between her and her objective, and he wagged a finger at her, "Nice try, Rory."

"Finn…"

"Admit that I'm fun and sexy."

Rory snorted, "Hardly."

Finn rolled his eyes, "Charming. Really, really winning. Just admit it."

"Does coercion work with chicks in London?"

"Birds."

"What?"

"In London, you'd call them birds."

"Whatever. Gimme my coffee."

"After you say it."

"Fine," Rory sat up straight and made a grand, sweeping gesture, "You are the funnest and sexiest of them all."

"I know," he handed her the cup and mock sighed, "You're so easy."

She winked at him and used her best breathy bimbo voice, "In more ways than one," but unfortunately, she was unable to keep a straight face and burst into giggles.

Finn placed a hand over his heart, "A sexual innuendo! Rory Gilmore, I'm scandalized."

"You love it."

"I do," he agreed and leaned closer to her and leered, "if only it were true."

Rory fidgeted slightly, but did not move away. The banter that they'd always been so good at had an edge now, something beyond the playful and light. He'd kissed her last night and she'd replayed the moment, over and over, into the night. It wasn't as though he hadn't kissed her before, because he had. Exaggerated, platonic, smacking kisses, when he'd had a few too many libations. There had even been one alcohol fueled, Stephanie initiated (via truth or dare, shortly before she had graduated) mini makeout, that she'd ruined by laughing about ten seconds in. It hadn't had a remotely similar effect on her heartbeat or breathing as his mere proximity was having now. "Finn?"

"Yeah?" he spoke quietly, still sitting close to her on the couch.

"I think we need to talk."

He pulled back, ran a hand through his hair, and she watched him, noted that his eyes were serious, his expression resolute. "Yeah, we do." He stood up and moved to the other room.

Rory followed and watched, with some bewilderment as he pulled on his coat, "Talking doesn't require outerwear, Finn."

"I have to do something first."

"What?"

"I'll explain when I get back. It'll be soon, I promise."

He was out the door before she could protest.

* * *

He had to call Logan. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. It wasn't an easy thing, Finn found. He'd picked up the phone three times so far, and had yet to get beyond dialing the area code. He was pacing and muttering to himself, using every curse word in every language that he had a passing familiarity with. He was somewhat impressed with himself.

Finally, having exhausted the few words he knew in Japanese, he threw himself down on the bed and dialed Logan's direct line. It was a number very few people had, and Logan answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hey Logan."

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been expecting your call."

Finn sat up, "You have? Why?"

"I saw the picture. Read the blurb. Crap write up, but the photographer caught your best side."

"Oh."

"Yeah. It was in one of my papers, you know."

"Oh," Finn repeated. He hadn't realized that. He wondered if Rory had.

"It's a fairly recent acquisition."

"Oh." And now was really not the time to lose his ability to form complete sentences.

"How is Rory, anyway?" Logan asked and had Finn been listening for it he would have heard more than a touch of amusement in the other man's tone.

"Good," Finn was scrambling. The words he'd formulated in his head over the past few days escaped him. He'd expected chit chat and a gentle easing into the 'Mate, I'm in love with the girl you were in love with in college,' conversation. He really should have written something down. "She's good."

"Good."

"I think I love her," Finn blurted out, finally.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean to, Logan."

Logan laughed, "Funny, I remember thinking the same thing."

"I'll understand if you want to punch me, the next time you see me. I broke the code."

"The code?"

"Never fall for a friend's girl. Isn't that in the code?"

"Probably. I've never paid much attention to rules, though."

"Me neither."

"I do seem to remember plenty of overlap of girls between the three of us."

"Not among the important ones"

"Of which there were few."

"Just, don't mess my face up permanently, alright? I'm attached to it."

"I'm not going to punch you, Finn."

"You're not?"

"Well, I might. If you mess it up too badly."

Finn deflated, "And that's a definite possibility. I'm shit at relationships."

Logan laughed again, "Just don't run. Rory's a runner and their can only be one in every relationship."

"Right. I'll try. I didn't expect you to be this easygoing, Logan. You're the classic only boy, after all. Not that I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth, or anything."

"You're my friend, Finn. And Stephanie called me."

"Oh?"

"Threatened me. Told me not to be a selfish jackass, for once in my life."

"I love that lady."

"Are you calling me a selfish jackass?"

"No. Wouldn't dream of it, mate. Your benevolence shall go down in history."

"That was overcompensating."

"Sorry."

"That's okay."

"So you're fine with this?"

"Not totally, but mostly," Logan drew in an audible breath, "You deserve someone amazing, Finn."

"Aw. You're such a cheese ball, Logan."

"Shut up."

* * *

They'd talked for awhile longer. Finn was distracted, but Logan prolonged the conversation, mostly for his own amusement. He'd given them his blessing, in a way, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun at Finn's expense.

Logan's secretary interrupted after an eternity (in Finn's mind) of newspaper business related conversation. Finn was putting on his shoes as Logan promised to call next week. He hung up, threw the receiver in the bed's general direction, and was out the door before it landed.


End file.
